What high reward had that wise prophetess
of Asher's tribe, homeless and husbandless,
when broke the light of earth's first Christmas Day,
and many a watcher in Jerusalem.
The herald Gabriel came not to them;
and yet their prayers shone on the herald's way.
What high reward had Mary when she heard
answering her cry, "They have taken away my Lord,"
the voice of Jesus quietly speak her name.
She who on Calvary stood sentinel,
on Easter morn sped forth the first to tell
that her Master lived, forevermore the same.
And that other Mary whose patient candle burned
till through the mist of suffering she discerned
the impersonal ever-present Truth divine
and that all men might share set clearly forth
how laws of Spirit govern both heaven and earth,
and proved it precept by precept, line by line.
What high reward have all who watch and wait,
trusting the law of Love to compensate
for all their grief and loneliness and pain.
Who see the Christ is here, by healing proven,
God's will supreme on earth as it is in heaven,
the joy of that first Christmas know again.
